


The Magic of Muggle Films

by sunshinedraco



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Awkward Boners, Awkward Flirting, Bisexual Harry Potter, Bottom!Draco Malfoy, Clothes Sharing, First Time, Flirtatious Draco, Frottage, Gay Draco Malfoy, Harry Is Oblivious, Healer!Draco Malfoy, It's Eventually Resolved, M/M, Muggle Technology, POV Harry Potter, Pining, Quarantine, Quarantined Together, UST, auror!Harry Potter, they're both very awkward, top!Harry Potter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-31
Updated: 2020-03-31
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:33:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23417521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunshinedraco/pseuds/sunshinedraco
Summary: Harry is happy to get home from an Auror mission in Northern Ireland, but may have been exposed to a contagious disease. Draco Malfoy, who comes with a team of Healers to inspect Harry and also happens to be the subject of Harry's long-term awkward crush, is also accidentally exposed. The two are quarantined together. You know what happens.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 7
Kudos: 464
Collections: Lock Down Fest





	The Magic of Muggle Films

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was written for Lock Down Fest, a multi-fandom fest with a focus on isolation and quarantine in response to the COVID-19 outbreak and subsequent quarantining. This work doesn't mention COVID-19 at all, nor does it involve an outbreak or pandemic, but it does involve characters being quarantined due to exposure to contagious diseases, so if that makes you anxious, feel free to skip this one! Comments and kudos are much appreciated. You can find me on tumblr @ sunshinedracomalfoy.

Harry sighed and looked around his flat. 12 Grimmauld place was a bit dusty—he’d been away for a few weeks, after all—but nothing was out of place. It always felt wonderful to come home. He headed to the kitchen to make a cup of tea before bed. Harry had just returned from a case in Northern Ireland dealing with some plant smugglers and was looking forward to a quiet e evening. Of course, Northern Ireland had their own Aurors, but they often called in English Aurors for tricky cases. Apparently Warrenpoint was a hub of baneberry trading; its position on the coast made sending and receiving shipments easy. 

Baneberry was in high demand as of late. The fruit was used to brew strong and undetectable poison and was a key ingredient in a potion that made trace amounts of magic visible to the drinker, making it highly useful to those engaged in illicit activities. However, these particular smugglers clearly hadn’t thought to use any Tonic for Trace Detecting, so despite the few times Harry and his fellow Aurors had accidentally let some magic escape, their stakeout only lasted a few days before they intercepted a shipment and rounded the bastards up. 

The case had been fairly straightforward, and Harry suspected he’d only been assigned to it because he had recently annoyed Robards. It had only been a small explosion, honestly, and the damage to their training room was minimal. Nevertheless, Robards did have a point. Harry was far too old for accidental magic like that, even if the taunts had been particularly aggravating. Harry pulled himself out of his head, refusing to dwell on his coworkers’ jokes about his obsession with Malfoy. They didn’t know how close to the mark they hit when they laughingly accused Harry of pining. Resolving not to think about the case or Malfoy for at least the next few hours, Harry put the kettle on. 

His peace was quickly interrupted by a banging on his door. Frustrated at having his quiet time cut off so soon after arriving home, Harry went to see who it was. Two witches and three wizards dressed in green Healers’ robes stood on his doorstep covered in protective charms. Another witch stood behind them, also magically protected. She stepped forward. “Mr. Potter, so good to see you,” she said.

“What’s going on?” Harry asked, bewildered. Why are they wearing so many protective charms? He wondered. 

“Janice Taylor, Magical Law Enforcement,” she replied. “I’m rather new in the DMLE. Sorry to meet this way, and for disturbing you so late. We needed to reach you immediately.” 

Harry scrambled for something to say. “Nice to meet you,” was what he came up with. “You still haven’t answered my question, though. Why are you all here?” 

“May we come in?” Janice asked. “I’ll explain everything shortly.” 

Harry nodded, leading them into the entryway of Grimmauld Place and feeling grateful he’d finally found a way to undo the sticking charms that had plastered the hallway with portraits of horrid Black family members. 

“As you know, you recently returned from a mission for the Aurors in Northern Ireland,” Janice said. “Unfortunately, after your departure, the Aurors left in Warrenpoint discovered that the smugglers were not only transporting baneberry for its use in potions,” she continued. 

“Do they need me to go back out?” Harry asked, internally pleading that the Northern Irish Aurors could handle the new development themselves. It had been weeks since he’d had a proper break and he was exhausted.

“No, rather the opposite, actually,” Janice responded. What the hell does that mean? Harry wondered before Janice continued. “Apparently, this particular baneberry crop had been specially bred to have not only its usual effects in potions, but also to carry a magical disease. While the smugglers were handling the shipments with masks and gloves to prevent transmission, the Aurors who intercepted the shipment, yourself included, took no such precautions, imagining the plants to be ordinary. This team of Healers is from the DMLE/Healer Task Force for the Containment of Magical Maladies and is here to inspect you and your belongings, making sure no trace of the disease is found.” 

Harry sighed. Why couldn’t anything in his life go according to plan? “Alright,” he said, trying to hide his annoyance. “Inspect anything you like.” 

One of the Healers moved forward, directing the others. “Atkinson, Delaney—you two inspect Mr. Potter’s bag from his trip and anything the bag has touched. Bailey and I will do a walkthrough of each room. Malfoy, you’ll handle the thorough physical examination.” 

Harry felt his face go pale. Malfoy was here? One of the Healers stepped out of the group and Harry found himself face to face with Malfoy’s equally-stricken face. Harry swallowed, trying to keep his feelings off his face, mirroring Malfoy as the other man also carefully wiped his face of emotion. Malfoy nodded at his boss, and while Harry wanted to request that someone else do his exam, he didn’t want to lose face in front of the whole group, Malfoy included. The other Healers set out on their assigned tasks, and Janice accompanied them. 

“Right, then,” Harry said, awkwardly stuffing his hands in the pockets of his trousers. “Shall we get on with it?” 

“Eager, Potter?” Malfoy’s eyes glinted like they used to at Hogwarts when he realized he had something over Harry. Harry blushed and stammered at the innuendo before Malfoy jumped in. “Relax. Let’s go to the kitchen. You do have one of those, right?” 

“Yes, of course I have a bloody kitchen,” Harry grumbled before leading Malfoy down the hallway. 

***  
This was going to be worse than Harry had anticipated. He’d thought the examination could be done magically—and it could—but it turned out he had to undress to his pants in order for the spell to work properly. Fingers trembling, praying Malfoy didn’t have to get too close, Harry stripped. When he was done, he stood, waiting for Malfoy to get started and blushing furiously. His only consolation was that Malfoy seemed to be as uncomfortable as he was. Gone was his fleeting confidence from earlier. Malfoy’s ears and face were reddened, and he’d not said a word since Harry began undressing. 

Coming out of his focus on Malfoy’s blush, Harry cleared his throat. “Well, are we doing this?” He asked, then cringed at how awkwardly sexual it sounded. “I mean, you can start whenever you’re ready,” he corrected himself. If possible, he was blushing even harder than before. God, couldn’t it have been anyone besides Malfoy? Not that he’d particularly love a mostly-naked examination with anyone, but ever since their eighth year at Hogwarts, he and Malfoy had been so awkward around each other. It was like they didn’t know how to act without fighting. Of course, Harry also had other reasons to be awkward. But Malfoy didn’t need to know that. 

Malfoy sighed. Moving closer, he waved his wand over Harry’s body, casting whatever spells he needed non-verbally. Harry gulped as Malfoy’s breath ghosted over his neck. It seemed Malfoy would need to move his wand across Harry’s entire body as well as inspect the skin manually. “Shouldn’t you tell me what you’re going to do before you do it?” Harry asked. It was an idiotic thing to say, seeing as Janice’s presence pretty much meant Harry could either be inspected or face the wrath of the DMLE, but he had to say something. Malfoy was so bloody silent, and it was driving Harry mad. 

Malfoy let out another impressive sigh. “Yes, I suppose.” He said, his signature drawl dripping with boredom. Harry was so taken aback that Malfoy had actually agreed with him that he didn’t have a chance to respond before Malfoy launched into a description of what he would do, the spells he’d be using, and the magical theory that made the spells work, all the while waving his wand across Harry’s head, neck, arms, chest, and back. All the while leaning very close to Harry, breathing on him, raising goosebumps and heating his flesh with his very presence. Harry was struggling to listen and keep control of his body. 

It was just that had been so long since Harry had been, ahem, intimate with anyone. And that he had recently accepted his bisexuality and even more recently begun to actually date men. And that Malfoy was so bloody close, talking and exhaling and looking so intent. The pounding of Harry’s heart had everything to do with proximity to another man, with the dry spell he’d been on recently, with his lack of experience with men. Nothing to do with Malfoy himself, of course. Of course. 

A huff escaped Harry’s lips, and Malfoy looked up from his inspection of Harry’s waist, startled. “All right, Potter?” he murmured, and his low voice made Harry’s stomach drop. 

“Yes,” Harry managed to rasp in response. “Sorry, I…” He trailed off. “This is just so weird.” 

“Well, it’s about to get weirder,” Malfoy said, and dropped to his knees. 

“What are you doing?” Harry lurched back, falling against the edge of the counter. 

“Full physical examination, remember?” Malfoy said, looking a bit uncomfortable now that he was looking up at Harry from his position on the floor. His earlier confidence seemed to snap back in place, and he grinned up at Harry. “Bet you never thought I’d get on my knees for you, eh Potter?” 

Harry choked, cheeks burning, and tried desperately to think of an answer, but before he could, Malfoy grabbed his legs and turned him around. “I’ll do your arse and the backs of your legs first,” he said, and yanked Harry’s pants down around his ankles. 

“Malfoy!” Harry squeaked, and the other man paused. Harry didn’t think it could get worse than this. 

Sensing his discomfort, Malfoy paused. “Relax, Potter. I’m a professional. I see this every day.” 

Harry sighed. “Carry on, then,” he said resignedly. 

The next five minutes were the worst of Harry’s life. Harry occupied himself by making a list of things he’d rather be doing. Drinking bubotuber pus. Emptying the stake out latrine without magic. Walking in on Ron and Hermoine having sex.

The distraction was no use. Harry could feel Malfoy’s breath on his arse cheeks and the sensation was driving him mad. He clenched his fists. Malfoy moved to his legs, and while Harry had never thought much about his legs in terms of sexual pleasure, the light puffs of air from Malfoy’s mouth that hit his thighs and calves as Malfoy muttered incantations were somehow incredibly erotic. Despite his near-heroic efforts to the contrary, Harry could feel himself getting hard. 

“Turn around,” Malfoy ordered. It came out louder than Harry’d been expecting, and he jumped before turning around reluctantly. Malfoy, still on his knees, let out a strangled gasp, so tiny Harry could almost convince himself he’d imagined it. Was it possible that Malfoy was attracted to him? No, there was no way. Harry didn’t even know if Malfoy liked blokes, and Malfoy certainly didn’t know Harry did. Lost in his hope—idle curiosity, Harry corrected himself—Harry hadn’t noticed that Malfoy had again leaned in to finish the inspection, starting his ankles. 

As Malfoy worked his way up Harry’s legs, Harry frantically tried to will away his burgeoning erection. He was semi-successful, meaning he was only half-hard when Malfoy got to his prick. Malfoy leaned in once more, waving his wand across the whole area. He was biting his lip in concentration and his face had become quite flushed. Feeling Malfoy’s breath on his crotch, Harry let out an involuntary moan. He slapped his hand to his mouth, horrified. Malfoy’s head jerked up and he met Harry’s eyes. 

“I… I’m sorry,” Harry said, out of breath suddenly. 

Malfoy said nothing in response, just stared up at Harry with an unreadable expression as his chest heaved. Just when Harry thought Malfoy was about to hex his bollocks off, Malfoy slowly licked his lips. Harry groaned again, biting a knuckle to keep from making too loud a sound. 

Someone pounded on the door, breaking the silence and the boys’ staring contest. Both Harry and Malfoy jumped, and Malfoy lowered his hand, which seemed to Harry like it might have been reaching out to touch him. 

“All right in there?” Janice called. 

Malfoy took a deep breath. “Just about finished!” He called back. “Be out in a moment.” He looked back at Harry, climbing to his feet. “Get dressed,” he said, smirking. Stunned, mind swirling, Harry obeyed without a word. What on earth had just happened? 

***

The last two Healers finished inspecting the kitchen and entered the living room where Harry, Malfoy, Janice, and the rest of the Healers were waiting. “All finished up,” the one who seemed to be the boss of the others said. “No trace of the disease in any of the rooms.” 

“Nor on Mr. Potter’s belongings,” another Healer added. 

The room fell into silence. “Well, that’s sorted,” Janice said. 

“Not quite yet,” the head Healer said. “Malfoy?” His boss prompted. “Any trace on Mr. Potter himself?” 

Malfoy sighed. He did that quite often, Harry had noticed. “I found evidence of the disease on Potter,” he said reluctantly. The rest of the group drew back, distancing themselves from where Harry and Malfoy were standing. 

“What does that mean?” Harry asked. “Am I sick?” 

Malfoy turned to him, looking miserable. “No, you’re not sick. But you have been exposed to the disease, so you might get sick, or you might get others sick if you interact with them.” 

“How do you know I haven’t gotten you lot sick?” Harry asked. 

“Hence the protective charms, Potter,” Malfoy scoffed. “Really. One would think you play dumb on purpose.” 

Janice’s lips thinned as she and the other Healers edged surreptitiously to the door. “Well, we’ll just leave you to it, then, shall we?” 

“Leave us to what?” Harry asked, getting quite tired of not understanding what the bloody hell was going on. 

“Your two week mandatory quarantine, of course!” The lead Healer said far too brightly. “We at the DMLE/Healer Task Force for the Containment of Magical Maladies do so appreciate your cooperation, but I do need to let you know: leaving your house during this time will have legal ramifications. It’s for the safety of the Wizarding world that you two are being quarantined, so please don’t take this lightly.” 

“Hang on, Healer Eggert,” Malfoy interjected, addressing his boss. “Why am I being quarantined?” 

“Sorry,” Eggert responded. “I assumed you did it on purpose or something. Haven’t you noticed? Your protective charms have dropped, and as you were the one in closed proximity to Mr. Potter, we can’t take any chances on letting you out.” 

“Wait, he’s going to be in here with me? For two weeks?” Harry couldn’t believe his bad luck. It was enough to make him wish he was back in the tiny tent in Northern Ireland. 

“Sorry for the inconvenience,” Janice said, smiling awkwardly. “We will check in periodically to monitor your condition. Bye now!” 

With that, the team hurriedly traipsed out of the house without a backward glance, leaving a stunned Harry and a chagrined Malfoy alone in Grimmauld’s living room. 

“Did you know this was going to happen?” Harry demanded, rounding on Malfoy. 

“Well, I knew it was a possibility. I certainly wouldn’t have come to work today if I knew I was going to get quarantined with you.” Malfoy fastidiously brushed a bit of lint off his green Healer’s robes and avoided Harry’s eyes. 

“Why did you drop your shield charms?” Harry asked. And why am I always the one with all the questions and none of the answers? But he didn’t say that bit out loud. 

“I certainly didn’t do it on purpose.” Malfoy still wouldn’t meet his gaze. “It must have happened in a moment of lost concentration.” 

Was Malfoy blushing? This day was getting weirder by the minute. “Well,” Harry said, a bit helplessly. “Do you want a cup of tea?” 

Malfoy looked taken aback. “What?” 

“We’re gonna be here together for a while, Malfoy. Might as well get comfortable.” 

After their cup of tea, which they drank in awkward silence, Harry showed Malfoy to a guest bedroom and retired for the night, half-hoping that he’d wake in the morning to find this had all been a terrible, bizarre dream. 

***

The next morning brought no such luck. Malfoy was stuck without clothes, so he had to borrow some from Harry. He was also exceptionally annoyed at the situation as a whole, and was therefore exceptionally irritable with Harry, goading him during breakfast. When they were finished eating, Harry had suggested a film to pass the time. However, Malfoy’s lack of understanding of Muggle technology only irritated him further, and he retreated to sulk in his room. 

At least it was only sulking and not a proper fight. Harry was tired of fighting Malfoy. For whatever reason, after saving Malfoy from that fire, he just couldn’t find it in him to hate him anymore. However, they hadn’t interacted much since Harry had testified on Malfoy’s behalf after the war, so Harry had no idea if Malfoy felt the same way or not. He really didn’t know anything about what Malfoy had been up to, besides that he’d become a Healer. His lack of proximity to Malfoy had put a stop to his school-boy stalking. 

In the afternoon, Malfoy emerged from his room again. “Can I have some food?” He asked, still a little snippy. 

“God, of course,” Harry said. “You’re welcome to anything, anytime.” 

“Oh, yeah?” Malfoy’s eyebrow twitched up and Harry felt his face heat at the innuendo. 

“I- I-… I just meant…” Harry stammered. 

“I know what you meant, Potter.” Malfoy’s voiced was tinged with bitterness and his face clouded. He made himself a sandwich and sat down at the table. “Are you always this blindingly heterosexual?” 

“Does that mean you’re not?” Harry’s heart was suddenly pounding. If he wasn’t straight, and Malfoy wasn’t either…

Malfoy snorted. “Much to the disappointment of the Malfoy family, I am very gay.” 

“Why are you telling me this?” Harry asked. 

“It’s not like it’s a secret, Potter. It’s not a bad thing.” 

“Oh. Yeah.” Harry wished he felt the same way. Summoning his Gryffindor courage, he said, “I’m not… uh… straight, either.” 

Malfoy choked on his sandwich. “What do you mean? What about the girl Weasley?” 

“I’m bisexual. Into both.” Harry still felt a little odd saying it. Malfoy looked as if he was putting a puzzle together in his head. 

“I will watch a film with you,” Malfoy said abruptly. “Will you tell me how it works?”

***

This was going rather better than Harry’d expected. He and Malfoy were nearing the end of their fourth day of quarantine. They’d mostly spent the time watching films and eating takeaway Janice brought over, but they’d had quite a few civil conversations in between. They’d talked about their respective careers and their friends. Harry introduced Malfoy to more Muggle technology. After a few drinks, Malfoy had brought up sexuality again, and they’d both admitted their relative lack of experience with men. Harry had never gone further than kissing with a man, and Malfoy was only slightly more experienced. The conversation had made Harry unbearably hard, which was frankly ridiculous, because it was only a discussion about kissing, but to be honest, Malfoy’s mere presence was driving Harry’s libido through the roof. 

“Oi, Potter.” Malfoy shook Harry out of his reverie. “Fancy a film after our dinner?” 

Harry snorted. “You hardly have to ask,” he said. “It’s all we’ve done for four days.” He cleared away the leftover Chinese that sitting on the table. 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Malfoy shot back, that dangerous glint back in his eye. “How should I make this more entertaining for you?” His voice was suddenly sultry. Like their friendly conversations, Malfoy’s flirting was becoming more and more common, too. Harry usually found himself too flustered to flirt back, and too insecure that he’d read the situation all wrong and this was just what being friends with Malfoy was like. 

Harry blushed and choked, as he always did when Malfoy started speaking in innuendos, but gathered his wits to retort, “I’m sure you’ll think of something,” coyly, before changing the subject. “By the way, you can call me Harry, if you want.” 

Now it was Malfoy’s turn to be speechless. “Uh, okay.”

Bolstered by newfound bravado, Harry leaned closer, face next to Malfoy’s. “Can I call you Draco?” His heart was pounding. There was a distinct possibility that this was a terrible idea. “I want to call you Draco,” he whispered. Harry hadn’t meant for that last bit to slip out, but he was going to own it. 

Draco swallowed. “Yeah, you can call me Draco,” he responded softly, the words ghosting over Harry’s face. 

Harry drew back, his bravery gone for the time being. “Okay!” He said faux-brightly, trying to dispel the awkwardness. “Let’s go watch our film.” 

Harry led the way over to the couch and turned on the TV. His crush on Malfoy—which he was fully admitting to now, after denying it to his friends and himself for years—was getting out of control. The most confusing part was that he thought Malfoy might like him, too. But Malfoy’s feelings were really a moot point; despite Harry’s Gryffindor bravery, he’d never, ever make a move on Malfoy. The humiliation was too much to risk. 

***

Midway into the movie, Malfoy stood up. “I need the toilet, be right back.” Harry nodded in acknowledgement, pausing the film. 

When Malfoy returned, he sat down closer to Harry than he’d been before. Harry’s heart sped up and he swallowed nervously. When they resumed the film, Harry found it hard to pay any attention. He could smell Malfoy, his scent a mixture of Harry’s deodorant and laundry detergent from borrowed necessities and a woodsy scent that was all his own. In case the scent wasn’t distracting enough, Harry had become so attuned to Malfoy’s body in the past few days that he could practically feel the heat radiating off Malfoy. He remembered the feel of Malfoy’s breath brushing his lips, his prick responding almost immediately. Harry desperately tried to think of un-sexy things. 

Just then, Malfoy shifted, moving his hand off his lap and onto the cushion between them. Was he making a move? Was he asking Harry to make a move? Was he just getting more comfortable? If Harry couldn’t concentrate on the film before, he certainly couldn’t now. Voldemort could burst into the room, naked and singing, and Harry wasn’t sure he’d notice. Filled with nerves, Harry swallowed. Then he moved his hand to the cushion as well. That was as far as he’d go. He’d leave the rest to Malfoy. 

The two men watched the next few minutes of the film in silence. Or rather, Harry thought Malfoy watched the film while Harry tried to suppress his growing panic and growing erection. He hadn’t been this nervous or this easily aroused since he was about fifteen, but for some reason, Malfoy made him feel like a horny teenager again. 

Harry was just about to give up hope of Malfoy doing anything when he felt a pinky brush against his. Terrified to move and break the spell, he sat as still as possible while Malfoy’s hand moved closer, until their pinky fingers were fully pressed together. Harry let out a soft breath, almost a moan, and would have been embarrassed except the sound clearly galvanized Malfoy into action. In one swift movement, Malfoy grabbed Harry’s hand and laced their fingers together. When Harry glanced over, Malfoy was looking straight ahead, but his pleased smile matched Harry’s perfectly. 

Malfoy seemed determine to torture Harry. His thumb brushed softly over Harry’s, lighting the skin on fire. Another tiny, involuntary moan escaped Harry’s mouth. Growing more and more brave, Malfoy scooted closer to Harry, who was still frozen in place and terrified to scare Malfoy off. Leaning in, Malfoy whispered in his ear. “Potter.” The heat of Malfoy’s breath on his ear made Harry whimper, but he still didn’t move. Malfoy tried again. “Harry.” This time, Harry moaned outright. 

“Y-yes, Malfoy?” He choked out. 

“Look at me,” Malfoy breathed into his ear. 

Harry turned his head and found himself practically nose-to-nose with the other man. He was trembling all over. “God, Malfoy. Draco.” The whimper in his voice was clear. “If you only knew what you do to me.” 

That was all Malfoy needed. He moved the last inch, kissing Harry at last. Harry reacted immediately, melting into the kiss and pulling Malfoy closer. Malfoy—no, Draco, Harry had to keep reminding himself—climbed onto his lap, settling down so their pelvis fit together deliciously. Draco rolled his hips and sucked on Harry’s neck, drawing frantic moans from the other man. 

“Wait,” Harry said breathlessly. “Draco, wait.” 

Draco pulled back, a confused expression on his face. “Yes?” 

“You’re not just doing this because we’re trapped together, are you?” Harry needed to know before they could continue. “Because, well, I like you. A lot. And I don’t want this to be because we’re each others’ only option for getting laid right now.” 

Draco huffed. “Merlin, Harry. You’re so oblivious sometimes.” 

“Hey!” 

Draco cut him off. “It’s true. How have you not noticed that I’ve been flirting with you this entire week?” 

“I didn’t want to hope,” Harry admitted. “I’ve liked you for so long, I thought I might just be reading too much into the situation.” 

“Let me be the one to let you know: you are definitely not reading into the situation. I like you too, Harry.” He paused, rolling his hips again. “I like this,” he murmured against Harry’s neck. “I want you, not just because we’re stuck together for two weeks. I’ve wanted you for years now, too.” 

Harry couldn’t hold back anymore. They crashed together in a passionate kiss, tongues caressing and exploring each others’ mouths like the world was about to end. Harry’s fingers slipped under Draco’s borrowed jumper, brushing against his skin. When Draco moaned in response, Harry pulled it off entirely and kissed down to his chest, flicking his tongue over Draco’s nipples and drawing out another moan. 

Draco tugged at Harry’s shirt, breaking the kiss to pant, “Too many clothes.” 

Harry smiled and obligingly removed the offending item. Draco ground against him and pressed their bare chests together. It felt incredible, better than anything he’d ever done in his life. Harry made a disappointed sound when Draco drew back, but was quickly even more excited. Draco reached between them and untied Harry’s joggers, and Harry did the same for him. They both stood quickly to tug off their trousers. 

“This is the unsexy bit,” Harry said ruefully as he almost fell over trying to remove the joggers. 

“Are you kidding me?” Draco sounded breathless. “Watching you undress is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.” 

Harry blushed, but the way Draco was making his desire known gave him courage. “Shall I undress more, then?” 

“Fuck, yes.” Draco removed his own pants as Harry wriggled out of his. Harry settled back down on the couch, suddenly feeling a bit shy. He reached for Draco and pulled him back down to straddle him. 

“Er, you know I’ve never,” he began awkwardly before Draco interrupted gently.

“Neither have I, remember?” 

“Still want to?” Harry asked. 

“Of course,” Draco answered. “You?” 

“Mhmm.” Harry cut off his own answer, capturing Draco in another kiss. The feeling of their naked bodies moving together was incredibly intense, almost overwhelmingly intimate. Harry ran his hands all over Draco’s heated flesh, tugging on his hair before caressing his back and moving down to cup his arse. 

“Your arse is fantastic,” Harry nearly growled. 

The two men continued rutting against each other, breathing hard. Draco reached down and grabbed both of their cocks in one hand. The sight of his own prick pressed against Draco’s was so erotic Harry almost came on the spot. “Here,” he said, grabbing his wand and casting a quick lubrication charm. Draco wanked them both while he continued to roll his hips, sliding their cocks against his hand and each other. 

Harry moaned. “Fuck, Draco. You’re making me feel so good.” He bit down on Draco’s neck, drawing a groan out of Draco’s mouth. 

Draco tilted his head back, pushing his neck toward Harry’s mouth. “Yes, Harry. Bite me. Mark me.” 

Harry had a sudden epiphany. “You like it a little rough, don’t you?” He asked, smiling. 

Draco nodded. 

“You naughty boy. You like being my plaything. You like when I manhandle you.” 

Draco moaned in response, rutting faster against Harry. “Yes, yes, I’m so naughty.” 

Harry whimpered, overcome by the eroticism of the moment. He slipped one hand into Draco’s hair, pulling it roughly. His other hand trailed down Draco’s back, sliding over his arse and between the cheeks. It was Draco’s turn to whimper as Harry’s finger ghosted over his hole. 

“Please,” he whispered against Harry’s mouth. 

“Please what?” Harry demanded. 

“Please put your finger in my arse. Please, I need you inside me.” 

Harry murmured the lubrication charm again, slicking his finger before slowly inserting it into Draco’s arsehole. Draco panted and moaned, forgetting to wank himself and Harry. 

“Yes, that’s so good,” he cried. “More, please, Harry.” 

Draco’s every word got Harry hotter and hotter, desperate to be inside Draco for real despite his nerves that he might fuck up his first sexual experience with a man. He added a second finger, and then a third, searching for Draco’s prostrate. He knew when he found it; Draco let out a moan so loud the neighbors would have heard if Grimmauld Place didn’t have silencing and privacy charms surrounding it. 

Harry pulled his fingers out and Draco panted desperately. “No, please Harry, put them back, please, I need something inside me, I need you to fill me up,” he chanted. 

“Can I put my cock inside you?” Harry asked bluntly. 

Draco’s eyes darkened with lust. “God, fuck, yes. Merlin, Harry, are you trying to kill me?” 

“Seduce you, maybe.” Harry answered, once again muttering the lubrication charm and slicking up his prick. 

Draco lifted himself up, spreading his cheeks and letting Harry position his cock under him. Harry guided the tip into Draco, seeing stars from the intense pleasure. Draco slowly sank down on it, babbling wantonly. “Yes, yes, you feel so good, stretch me out, fill me up, fuck, yes.” 

Once he was fully sheathed inside Draco, Harry grabbed Draco’s hips, keeping him from moving. “God, you look gorgeous like this. Don’t move,” Harry said. “I don’t want to come too soon.” 

Draco leaned forward to kiss Harry, tangling their tongues once more. Harry lifted Draco before slowly pushing back in, keeping the pace slow. He knew Draco’d never done this before and wanted to be gentle. Draco had other ideas. The next time Harry pulled out, Draco slammed back down on his cock. 

“You’re just desperate for it, aren’t you?” Harry could tell Draco loved it when he talked like this. 

“Yes, Harry, I need your cock.” 

The answer made Harry groan and thrust forcefully into Draco. “Fuck, Draco. You’re so hot. You’re gonna make me come if you keep that up.” 

“Yes, yes, fuck me harder, I want you to come inside me,” Draco moaned, nearly throwing Harry over the edge. Harry reached down and grasped Draco’s prick, wanking it quickly. “God, Harry, you feel so good. Fuck me, yes, fuck me.” Draco came with a cry, spilling over Harry’s hand. 

Harry grabbed Draco’s hips, fucking him hard and fast. Draco was still moaning and keening, and it wasn’t long before Harry was coming in Draco’s arse with a groan. 

Harry collapsed back on the couch, Draco draping himself over him. “Fuck, Draco,” he panted. Draco reached up and kissed him sweetly before cuddling into his chest. Harry’s hand lazily rubbed circled on Draco’s back. 

“Good thing we’ve got ten more days of quarantine,” Harry said. 

“Plenty of time for lots more Muggle films,” Draco agreed. “I quite like them.”


End file.
